Before Sunset
by rainwater tears
Summary: The sequel to Before Sunrise. A year and a half later; Rory and Jess in Stars Hollow.


The sequel. A one-parter.  
An afternoon in Stars Hollow.  
For **Leigh** and **Ari**, and for everyone that reviewed _Before Sunrise_. I know it took longer than you maybe expected, but I hope you'll appreciate this all the same.

**Before Sunset**

**I**

The bus stops with a backfire and a jolt across the street from the gazebo, a little after two.

She is flustered and disheveled, her hair falling out of an already messy bun and two bags slipping off each shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed with the weight and she winces with each descending step.

"Bad shoes?" her mother asks from her seat on the bench outside. "What have I told you about heels and traveling?"

"Like oil and water." Rory laughs.

--

It's been a year and a half since she left. A year and a half and it feels like so much longer. She can't remember the way her apartment in New York smelled, or the exact shade of her little sister's hair (but it doesn't matter, now, it's a whole new color, the same burnt brown as Lorelai's). Her room at home has changed (bunk beds, a bean-bag chair, Emma's picture books scattered across the floor beneath her travel posters). Her mother has not.

"I have twenty-seven movies-of-the-week taped off Lifetime, ABC Family and CBS. Should we go alphabetical or by degree of smoopishness?"

"Smoopishness? Mom, my absence has done nothing for your vocabulary."

They're sprawled across the living room in a post-Moo Shu Pork haze, Emma curled between them fast asleep, her head against Rory's stomach, her feet pressing into Lorelai's thigh. They've talked over the missed stories and everydayness of life in Bahrain, of Rory's career, her story, her book.

"So, which will it be? 'Arcadia's Last Stand' or 'Losing It!'"

Rory stretches, her fingers reaching back to brush against a row of picture frames behind the couch. "Umm…neither? I think I need to start off with a good night's sleep. We can move on to the low-budget movies tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, sweets. You want to help me boost Emma up into the top bunk?"

"Absolutely."

Emma is bigger now (bigger than she was the last time Rory lifted her) and heavier as well. She groans under her sister's weight, but softens as Emma's warm forehead brushes the crook of her neck. Together they push the small child up into the bed and collapse together onto the bottom bunk.

"I can't believe you bought her bunk beds."

Lorelai laughs. "Don't look at me! She gave Luke the eye and he caved on the spot!"

"You _taught_ her the eye!"

"Yes, but I also taught her to use her powers for good, not evil. She's the one who betrayed the secrets of the Gilmore way."

**II**

Jess slides in the door of the diner during the mid-breakfast rush and he's taking Kirk's order before Luke realizes he's there. "Writer's block," he says when his uncle raises an eyebrow and his answer is returned with a subtle nod.

He's in the back counting jars of pickles when the bell over the door rings Lorelai and her daughters into the diner. He doesn't notice their presence until Emma comes running past the curtain and up the stairs. "What, no hug for me?" he calls up behind her and the curtain beside him shifts.

"Jess."

--

11:53 AM – 12:14 PM

It's not even noon when they step out onto the cold sidewalk in front of the diner. She's grinning, her head ducked to hide her teeth from nosy towns-persons and the blood rising to her cheeks in the freezing air. Neither of them says anything until they reach the safety of the Gazebo.

"So," Jess says.

"So."

"You're back."

She nods. "You're…here."

He nods. "It's been…"

"A long time."

"Yeah."

"So."

"So." They laugh together and it echoes off the wood ceiling like a bell. Outside the sidewalk seems to teem with familiar faces and eyes pass over them constantly, searching for gossip. It's a homey sort of bustle to both of them.

"I read your book."

She looks up with a wide smile and an over-size curl the exact shape of her ear falls across her face, catches on her scarf. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What'd you think?"

He grins at her, an honest to God grin that shows all his teeth. "I thought it was very well written. Smart. Not too talky, and the dialogue was great."

"But…?"

"But…it was too short. You tell this fantastic story and then it doesn't have an ending."

"You mean it doesn't have a _happy_ ending!" She gives him her very best shocked expression, her eyes widening and lips parting in a perfect little circle. "And it's left open ended because there's still time for things to change. They're only twenty-four years old, Jess, they have their whole lives to meet up again, or meet other people. They don't need an ending." She is flushed and smiling at him with her whole mouth. "I firmly believe that endings are unnecessary."

He laughs. "I suppose that's true." He shakes his head. "But did you really have to name him Jess? I mean…come on."

--

12:42 PM – 1:07 PM

Al's is empty. There is a lull that seems to reach across the room and spread slowly into every corner. "Creepy," Jess says as they step inside. "I don't think I've ever seen it this quiet."

A teenager Rory remembers as smaller and blonder is reading a book at the hostess station when they reach it. She drops her book face-down over the seating chart and guides them wordlessly to a table far across the room without their asking and Al himself comes out to take their order. He seems unsurprised by Rory's sudden presence in Stars Hollow and even less shocked to see her with Jess. They order Moroccan Pockets and breadsticks and Al rushes toward the kitchen.

"I forgot about small town life," she says. "Can't imagine how that's possible, but I did."

"I'm sure it will all come rushing back." He cocks his head and a sly smile seeps into his features. "Town Meetings, festivals…Taylor." He stretches his feet out below the table. "Kirk." She laughs.

"So."

The quiet of the restaurant is interrupted by the arrival of Taylor himself with Miss Patty following close behind. "Are we going to have this fight every _year_, Patty?!" He's all-but-shouting, and Rory stifles a laugh. "It's coming back, now," she tells him. "The festivals, the fights…just like old times."

"I think they might be mellowing with age, though," he tells her. "I caught them agreeing on something a few weeks ago."

"Never!"

"It's true. Something to do with paper mache. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Well," she nudges a saltshaker with her finger. "I would hope not. Couldn't have you turning into a completely different person on me."

"No, we couldn't have that."

Al brings out their food and refills their water glasses. Jess has half a pita pocket in his mouth when she asks what brings him to Stars Hollow.

He finishes chewing before he answers. "I thought Lorelai would have told you…I've been living here for the last six months."

"Seriously?"

He shrugs and swipes a napkin across his mouth. "I have my very own, fully furnished apartment on Peach and everything."

She lets out the harsh exhale of a laugh before drawing a hand to her mouth. "I don't know that I have the mental capacity to process this information." She kicks him below the table. "What on earth could have convinced you to move back?"

"You're not going to believe me."

She grins. "Try me."

So he tells her that it was the quiet. That he's developed an appreciation for drifting off to sleep _without_ sirens and traffic and city-life outside his window. "Maybe I'm just getting old," he says, "but there's something nice about living in a small town."

"I'm sorry," she says, "I'm going to be needing some sort of time travel device…the Jess I used to know needs to hear that he's going to grow up to be his uncle."

"Yes, well…things change I guess."

"I guess they do."

They eat their lunch in silence, mostly, but she can't stop herself from looking up every few minutes to give him a smile.

--

1:11 PM – 1:34 PM

"So what are you reading these days?" he asks her as they're walking down the sidewalk. "Since you stopped posting recommendations on your blog and all…"

"You read my blog?" She's trying to wind her scarf back around her neck, but it's stuck in the sleeve of her coat and she has to stop mid-stride to detangle herself. "I thought only my grandfather read that thing."

"Well then you were wrong." He reaches around her to help tug the fabric free and his fingers brush the cold skin at the nape of her neck sending waves down her spine, up his arm. He steps back as the scarf falls into place.

"I have to admit, my assistant does most of the work on that thing. All I do is the writing."

"Some would argue that the writing is most of the work."

She laughs at him. "You've clearly never tried to figure out the internet."

He nods. "This is true." They're headed in the direction of Black, White and Read by what seems to be a mutual, unspoken decision. "So you didn't answer my question," he eventually says.

"Right, what am I reading?"

"That's the one."

She shrugs. "A lot of American stuff, lately. Side-effect of homesickness, I guess." She stuffs her fists into the pockets of her coat. "I just finished a book by Sarah Vowell, actually."

"Funny voice…_This American Life_?"

"Yup."

The bell announces their arrival in the bookstore and Andrew glances up to smile at them as they enter. "Welcome home, Rory," he says when he sees who it is. "Hey, while you're here…I've got a couple copies of your book in the back…think you could sign them?"

She nods, "Sure. Stop me before I leave, okay?"

In "Essays" she grabs The Partly-Cloudy Patriot off the shelf and hands it to him. "You should give her a try…she's hilarious."

"Alright, I will."

She turns around to see what else she might find in the store and runs her hand along a row of books. "So what about you, what have you been reading?"

"Lots of plays."

"Anything good?"

"Have you ever read _Six Degrees of Separation_?"

"Kevin Bacon?" she asks.

He laughs. "John Guare."

She pulls an assortment of books off the shelves, choosing specific volumes. When she's collected five she hands them over to him, stacked neatly. He hands her a pile of his own, slightly more haphazard and nearly twice as big.

"Okay, this one is _yours_," she says, showing him the book at the top of the stack.

"Didn't know if you'd read it."

"Of course I've read it." She bats the book across his shoulder. "What kind of friend do you take me for?"

He shrugs and bats back at her with one of the paperbacks she gave him and soon they're tossing books at each other. He's pulling them off the shelves and she's shrieking like a twelve-year-old and Andrew's come out from behind the counter to offer up his best impersonation of Taylor. When she manages to swallow down as much of her laughter as possible, she straightens and tries to apologize. "We'll clean it up, Andrew. I'm sorry."

"My four-year-old niece is better behaved than this," he tells them and she has to swallow more laughter.

"We really are sorry," she says.

"Yes," Jess adds. "Sorry."

They avoid each other's eyes as they restock the books, certain they'll dissolve into further fits at the slightest glance.

--

2:20 PM – 2:24 PM

When they arrive, the bridge is occupied by a gang of rowdy sixteen-year-olds. They're smoking cigarettes and throwing bits of stale bread into the water.

Rory nudges him as they walk away. "I see Stars Hollow's hoodlum population is growing."

"Oh, yeah," he says. "I started a support group when I moved back."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Pretty well, actually. We've gone over the basics: looting, minor sabotage. Next week we're tackling Pissing Off Your Girlfriend."

"Ooh," she says, brushing his sleeve with her fingers, "I bet you'll handle that well."

He laughs. "That's good to know." He smiles at her. "Thanks for the brutal honesty."

--

2:37 PM – 4:16 PM

"I kind of expected the house to be different when I got back," she says as they stroll into the front yard.

"It really really isn't," he says.

"No."

This is a lie, actually. The front yard is littered with Emma's toys, a swing hangs from a tree, and the house has been painted recently. But the same attitude hangs over it; all of Lorelai's restless energy and Rory's childhood memories. "Emma has totally shanghaied my bedroom. I've been relegated to the bottom bunk."

"Yeah, she really got Luke on those beds."

She laughs. "I know! I can't believe Mom taught her the eye!"

"It's a dangerous gift you Gilmores possess." They attempt to sit down on the front porch, but the wood is cold and a little icy and stings the palms of their hands.

"Coffee?" she asks.

Inside the heat is turned up full blast and Emma is watching _Hannah Montana_ in the living room. Lorelai's already poured two mugs of coffee in the kitchen and she and Jess chat comfortably while Rory drops her coat and scarf in the bedroom.

"What is Emma watching?" she asks when she returns to the kitchen.

"She has an unfortunate affection for the Disney Channel," Lorelai replies.

"When I babysat last week she made me sit through a _marathon_," Jess tells her.

Rory pinches his cheek. "You're such a good cousin."

"Oh yeah," Jess laughs. "That's me."

Lorelai wanders off into the living room, and Jess and Rory sit down around the table. Rory pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them.

"So how have you been?"

Jess smiles at her and leans back in his chair. "I've been pretty good."

"You seem pretty good."

Conversation pours out into the room, keeping them talking as they drink their coffee. Lorelai passes through the kitchen a few times, grabbing snacks and refills. Outside the sky darkens into the rich light of late afternoon.

"So I didn't ask," she says, standing up to pour herself another mug.

"Ask what?"

"Ask if you were seeing anyone." A flush rises to her cheeks and spreads along her neck and through her ears, her blood pulsing faster than usual, with her own nerve.

He shakes his head. "I'm not." Then he sets his own mug down. "And what about you?"

She shakes her head as well.

--

4:18 PM – 4:27 PM

It could almost be considered sunset when Jess pulls her into her childhood bedroom and shuts the door behind them. They nearly trip over a soccer ball as they make their way across the room and land, tangled in each others' limbs, on the floor. He catches at the corner of her lips with his, winds their fingers together in a dizzying labyrinth of tendons and knuckles, and presses her back against the floor between a Babysitter's Little Sister book and her own suitcase.

She's trying not to think about the last time they were skin-to-skin, or the dizzying madness that followed their night in New York. She's avoided endings for fear that they will really spell the end and now, with Jess above her in her bedroom like she's seventeen and his tongue finding the freckle behind her ear and her sweater sliding up to expose pale skin—it's easy to forget that any of it will end.

She gasps when his tongue flicks across her earlobe and reaches for his neck to bring his lips back to hers. When they kiss it's so easy to forget where she is, when she is.

He pulls back from her, eventually, with one hand still around her waist and one wound through her hair. "Nice to know some things never change," he says and she laughs.

"My mom is probably wondering what we're doing in here," she says finally.

"Oh, I think your mom probably knows what we're doing in here."

She blushes, much the way she did when she was just a teenager, and a boy in her bedroom was still cause for scandal.

"Luke will be home soon," Jess says.

"It's almost evening."

"And here I was supposed to spend the entire day writing."

She smiles and runs a hand up his chest. "Are you sorry you didn't?"

He shakes his head, no. "I can't say that I am."

"I'm thinking," she says, sitting back a little to look at him better, "as fun as this is…maybe Emma's floor is not the best place?"

"I can think of a few better places," he says, straightening himself out just as the last few rays of sunlight hit the window behind them. "There's this one spot on Peach street that's even got a bed big enough for the both of us."

She grins at him.

They return to the kitchen slightly flushed just as Luke trudges in the back door. Emma comes in to ask if Jess wants to watch TV with her and he rolls his eyes, but follows her willingly.

--

5:14 PM – 5:48 PM

They sit down to dinner in the kitchen, the five of them, Lorelai and Luke chatting about their day, interrupted again and again by Emma, asking questions, demanding answers, and Rory and Jess side by side, their arms resting against each other as they eat spaghetti in silence.

"So how was your first day home, Rory?" Luke asks.

"It was good," Rory says, one hand up as she finishes her bite of food. "Pretty quiet."

Luke smiles at her. "Stars Hollow usually is."

"It's nice, though. Definitely not what I'm used to these days."

Emma tips her glass and the milk spills across the table, soaking into the tablecloths and dripping down onto the chairs and floor as everyone rockets out of their seats.

"Oops," Emma says, beginning to cry and Lorelai picks her up while Luke sops up the mess and Rory and Jess slip off into the quiet living room.

"We could go to my apartment," Jess says, "pick up where we left off?"

She wraps an arm around his neck. "Where we left off this afternoon or where we left off a year and a half ago?" she asks.

"Either?" he says. "Both?"

She kisses his cheek. "Let me help Mom clean up, then we'll go."

--

6:02 PM – 6:04 PM

"So this thing with you and Jess," Lorelai asks as she runs a soapy plate under the faucet, "is this gonna work this time?"

Rory shrugs. "I think it might."

"And this is what you want?"

"It is."

"Well then I'm happy for you, kid." She hands the plate over and steps back to get a good look at her daughter. "He's grown up to be a pretty decent guy."

"Yeah," Rory smiles. "He has."


End file.
